She opened the door before I could get there and when she came inside said, “What have I said about keeping your door locked?”

I sighed. “I know. I get so anxious to greet my fur friends that—”

“And see what they’ve been up to?” She glanced past my left shoulder.

I turned and now saw what I had missed earlier. On the floor next to the breakfast bar that separates my kitchen and living room were buttons. Buttons everywhere. Just beyond lay my overturned button box.

I whirled, ready to confront my cats, but they had disappeared. Who said cats don’t know when they’ve done something wrong?

“Darn,” I said. “I’ll be finding buttons for months. Under tables, stuffed in sofa cushions, behind the toilet. Sheesh.”

I went over and picked up the small wooden box and saw teeth marks that had to belong to Merlot. He weighed twenty pounds, so his bite was definitely recognizable. But I was sure the other two had a paw in this mess, too.

Candace knelt next to me and helped retrieve buttons, saying, “What’s with these, anyway?”

“I’m making an appliquéd Christmas quilt for Kara that incorporates all kinds of buttons in the design,” I said.

“Christmas in July?” Candace held a square turquoise button and stared at it with what could only be interpreted as confusion. “And what’s with this square one?”

“Cute, huh? You hardly ever see square buttons. Anyway, I always start early making gifts since orders for lots of cat quilts come in from now until a week before Christmas.”

“Oh, I forgot. You plan ahead.” She laughed. She wasn’t wearing her uniform, and her ash blond hair hung loose on her shoulders. When Candace was on the job, she never wore her hair down. She usually braided it and wrapped the braid tightly at the nape of her neck.